


Cross, star-crossed

by Ivelia



Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M, Miqo'te Warrior of Light (Final Fantasy XIV), Post-Final Fantasy XIV: Stormblood
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-15
Updated: 2020-12-25
Packaged: 2021-03-10 18:47:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 9,687
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28081899
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ivelia/pseuds/Ivelia
Summary: Finding themselves in Kugane for the Starlight Celebration, the Warrior of Light, Myraeda Palimpos, and her charge, Zenos yae Galvus, learn that in this part of the world, there is a romantic connotation to the festivities.
Relationships: Zenos yae Galvus/Warrior of Light
Comments: 4
Kudos: 16
Collections: Final Fantasy XIV Gift Exchange 2020





	1. Stranded

**Author's Note:**

  * For [glowingbutterfly](https://archiveofourown.org/users/glowingbutterfly/gifts).
  * Inspired by [The Glorious Misadventures of a Hunter & His Quarry](https://archiveofourown.org/works/26987026) by [glowingbutterfly](https://archiveofourown.org/users/glowingbutterfly/pseuds/glowingbutterfly). 



> Happy year end celebrations \o/  
> I hope this does bring some form of entertainment to you :D
> 
> This is inspired by glowingbutterly's long piece where, in a capricious twist of destiny, the showdown at the Royal Menagerie did not end with Zenos' death, but in somewhat of a draw, resulting in the two's fates being inextricably linked.  
>  ~~(I hope I didn't butcher your characters aaaaaa)~~

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Where basic plans don't go as planned (of course, they never do)

As her feet touched the solid ground at the end of the pier, Myraeda stretched her arms, almost humming with delight as the significantly less salty wind of the coming from the city played in her short purple hair. The young Miqo’te moved her bangs out of the way, using her hand as a visor as she looked at the familiar cityline, still shrouded with morning fog: she could nonetheless make out the wooden bridges and typical shape of the local buildings, and the large, shadowy mass she guessed was the famous castle dominating the background: after a long, gruelling trip, she had finally arrived in Kugane.

\- (At last, land!) She had sincerely missed the ground during the long journey from Limsa Lominsa. She had spent several weeks at sea, mainly cooped inside her cabin, so in spite of her current regrettable circumstances, she welcomed this change of scenery with obvious relief. However, her happiness was short lived; as the clanging of wooden geta on the floor resounded behind her, she didn’t need to turn around to identify the owner of the tall silhouette towering oppressively behind her. She wondered once more if just clothing him in far eastern-looking garb would be enough to disguise the identity of Zenos yae Galvus, former(?) imperial legatus and crown prince, her “current regrettable circumstances”, and reluctant travel companion. As she strained her neck to try to catch a look at his face, partly dissimulated under a wide-brimmed, lacquered traditional hat, she realized that, probably not; his most recognizable features, namely his imposing build and long, blonde flowing locks, were on full display. Tataru’s relooking had style, but some things were just impossible to dissimulate. Her mood, that plummeted with the reminder of his presence and the various issues that came with it, was further doused by the frigid voice that asked:

\- “And what, now?” She did note that the man seemed slightly more amiable, now that they had reached land; it almost sounded like his tone, while dripping his usual disdain, did not hold as much vitriol as it had during the trip. She shrugged:

\- “We should start by finding a place to stay, and hide there until we get favorable news, I guess.” The plan that was decided on was pretty straightforward: she and her voluminous “baggage” were to lay low in Kugane, while the other Scions identified and “fixed” the issue of leaking to various hostile forces the fact that, in spite of his rumored defeat during the battle of Ala Mhigo, the Garlean Crown Prince was still alive and mostly well, but “almost” inoffensive (almost.), and currently on the run with the Warrior of Light, of all people. 

\- “Another cell, then.” Well, that soured fast. She could feel from his reply, and probably increasingly cold stare, that he did not really appreciate this plan. She needed to add a note to “make sure to properly exercise” to the long list of recommendations on “how to care for your not-so-portable Garlean killing machine”. The monotony of such a long cruise was hard to bear for the most seasoned travellers, and it was no surprise that it didn’t do any good to their barely lukewarm relationship.

\- “It’s not like we have a choice”, she grumbled. Honestly, if she had her word to say in all of this, she would have thrown him overboard halfway across the Sirensong Sea: she didn’t think it was possible, but he had been insufferable, _even more so than usual_ , for the whole, _lengthy_ duration of their voyage. So much that before they both decided to seclude themselves in their own rooms, they had been quite close to re-enact the battle of the Hall of the Griffin on the ship’s deck. His usual disparaging remarks had been enough to set off her volatile mood, already on edge from the situation, while the bastard probably saw the whole ordeal as another passable way to alleviate his growing boredom. Was she going to enjoy doing this -wasting her time holed in a random inn with someone that was literally her arch-enemy- again? Of course not. She sighed once more. “Let’s go.”

And so, they set out to implement the first part of that simplistic plan: securing lodgings. It should have been an easy enough task but… When they reached the fifth inn that sported a “No vacancies” sign, she started wondering what manner of divinity had cursed her, this time. Desperate, she asked a nearby receptionist, who could only answer negatively: 

\- “My apologies, esteemed customers, but in this period, most of our rooms are booked weeks in advance.” 

\- “Oh, I see.” She sighed, her furry ears sagging sadly “I suppose people visiting their families for the end of the year festivities do bring in a lot of travellers...” She didn’t think about it before boarding for Kugane, since they left in a hurry, but given the time of their departure, and how long it took to reach here, it must be around _that_ time. Not that she had anyone left to visit.

\- “Families?” The young inn clerk tilted her head in interrogation, before connecting the dots. “Ah!” The couple in front of her were obviously Ijin travellers: the man was wearing something that could pass as traditional local garb, but was probably from one of those races common in the West, the tall ones... Was it the Rogadin or the Eleven? And the lady, even discounting her cute cat ears and tail, did not look at all like the demure native young girls, with her gallant looking long coat opened on a barely-there top that showed a fair bit of cleavage, her easy-to-move-in short pants, and the dangerous looking musket strapped to her back.

\- “Esteemed travellers, perhaps you don’t know? In Hingashi, this period of the year is considered as a romantic period, as couples reflect on the time they spent together, and the time they want to spend together in the future”. The young Hyuran leaned to her, covering her mouth slightly in an universal gossip dispensing gesture, and whispered in the tone of confidence “Most young people come here for not-so-family-friendly reasons”. Her eyes travelled back and forth between her and her cold-mannered companion, obviously imagining _way too many things_ , and she added: “It’s a great way to rekindle the flame with your man!” Myraeda almost choked on her own saliva when she heard this:

\- (What flame?) The only “heat” between them was the heat of battle, and that wasn’t something she wanted to get any hotter. (Un)fortunately, the receptionist only thought she was shy; feeling a kindred spirit towards her, she said after a pause, seemingly talking to no one.

\- “Officially, we don’t have any vacancies here, but some of the rooms are empty as they are rented on a full-time basis by some of our most esteemed customers, so they can always accommodate their foreign guests.” She took out a piece of paper from her counter, and theatrically pretended to carelessly drop it on the floor, continuing to speak to herself way too loud: “I have recently misplaced the list of these owners, I guess anyone who found it could return it, or go find the people named on it and negotiate with them to borrow their rooms''. Flustered, the Miqo'te machinist picked up the document as if it was burning her fingers, preparing to return it as she did not want to go along with whatever impure thoughts the young receptionist had, but one name on the list caught her eye: [East Aldenard Trading company - Representative: Hancock Fitzgerald]. She put back the list on the counter, thanking her awkwardly before leaving, occulting the obnoxious wink and mouthed (Go get your man!) from the clerk. She sighed again. She did not want to ask for help from Hancock, but from the looks of it, the only other alternative would be sleeping outside in Kugane’s foggy nights, which would at best, end with a nasty cold, or at worst, an altercation with local authorities. She returned to her charge, literally oozing boredom a few malms away, who greeted her with another flat-toned: 

\- “And what, now?” She couldn’t see his eyes with that hat, but she could have sworn she heard a thread of mockery in his voice. Was she paranoid, or was this guy finding enjoyment in seeing her flailing around? She grumbled:

\- “I happen to have an acquaintance that might be able to help us.” 

\- “It only took you five different inns to remember this.” He wasn’t even trying to hide his scorn now, which was starting to piss her off:

\- “I don’t see you doing anything to help, so don’t complain”, she snapped, even if she fully knew that there was nothing he could do -even supposing that he had had been here before, it was not as they could waltz in the Garlean embassy for a night or two...

\- “Why should I help? You are the architect of this whole situation, after all.” Her growing anger instantly deflated, replaced by pangs of guilt; if only she had been able to _finish the job_ . But she didn’t, and now, she _literally couldn’t_ \- so... She had to take responsibility. From his point of view, he had laid his life on the line, only to be denied a proper death, and even worse, had been reduced to this pathetic state of being unable to use his preternatural abilities and strength, and tied to his archenemy by an invisible chain. It was already nice that the only expression of displeasure at their current situation was just being an ass. He had been fairly cooperative so far, and kept his promise of not running away -or rather, not carting her off to the nearest Garlean garrison during her sleep, since they couldn’t be separated- but the predatory look she caught him giving her sometimes, made her wonder if it was such a good thing. She bit back any scathing retort she might have had, and just decided to ignore him as she decisively walked towards the Ruby Bazaar.


	2. A Dubious Deal

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Selling your integrity for basic necessities should be business as usual for the Warrior of Light, nay?

\- “Yes, of course, this can be done! You and your lovely travel companion can borrow the suite we have booked over there -after all, you are an important guest too!” She was thankful that Hancock did not make things difficult for her -whether it was out of real friendship or just to collect goodwill from the Warrior of Light, she was not in position to care right now. Just knowing that their lodgings would be secured for the time being was lifting a huge weight of her shoulders. And now, for the hard part- 

\- "Ah, there's another thing… Would it be possible to keep my visit here a secret?” she asked. “Of course, I would be really _grateful_ " She knew it would be hard to prevent him from delivering his information to his diminutive master; the whereabouts of the Warrior of Light were, in general, a precious indicator of where world-shaking events would happen, and to a wise merchant like the chairman of the East Aldenard trading company, something that could easily be turned into profits, being by directly selling this information, or influencing the situation. And this would be worse if anyone identified her mystery partner as a supposedly dead Crown prince... But still, she had to try. If there was one person she would trust even less than Rowena when it came to getting a fair deal, it would be this bespectacled blonde; she would probably dearly regret handling him what was essentially a carte blanche to her services, but… It was not like she had a choice. 

\- "Actually," she barely stopped herself from audibly swallowing her apprehension when she heard him interject. "There is something you can do for me". It seemed that he had caught on to her internal panic as he added “It’s nothing much, no monsters or gods to slay” It was, in fact, even worse. “You just have to sit back and enjoy your trip here, with a few conditions”. He said, riffling through his files and handing her a pamphlet, that she almost instantly covered with tea as she realized where this was going. _Not again._ “As you might have seen already, this season is full of with romantic entertainment, and we’re planning to set up a _Lovey-dovey travel tour to exotic lands_ for wealthy Eorzean individuals. And an interview in one of Eorzea’s premier newspapers by someone as famous as you would be a huge advertisement! If I were to become really busy with guiding new illustrious visitors, then naturally I would forget to report your presence here, without Lord Lolorito minding too much”.

\- “But Z-” She caught herself in extremis “My… friend and myself are not involved in that way…” Unfortunately for her, he mistook her hesitation for a shy maiden’s timidity.

\- “Then, it might be a good way to put things on track then! I’ll be rooting for you, and expecting good results for me!” His cheerful tone was still resounding in her ears as she left the Ruby Bazaar offices to meet her _lovely travel companion_ -she had opted to go to this meeting alone as she feared that her influential merchant friend would be able to recognize such an illustrious personage, so he could only wait outside, courtesy of those damn jewellery pieces whose curse had them linked like conjoined twins with 30 yalm maximum distance... She cut him before he could open his mouth for one of his annoying _And what, now_ s, waving to his face both the letter of introduction that would grant them the unlimited use of a spacious suite in one of the city’s most luxurious inns, and the pamphlet of ignominy -a list of all the “lovey-dovey-cute” activities for enamored couples she was supposed to go to, with _him_.

\- “I have secured us a room”. But at what cost?

* * *

The room was arranged in a typical far eastern fashion, as explained by the inn employee who escorted them to what would be their temporary home, a large suite separated into an entrance area with regular wooden flooring, with a small table with an integrated fireplace for boiling tea and eating light collations, that could host a light party. Further in, the flooring was subtly elevated, and changed to a more fragile, high quality tatami for the sleeping area proper. The tastefully aged walls were decorated with antique, probably priceless scrolls and tapestries, in places that were not obstructed by dressers and other cupboards where the guests could put their belongings away - the whole room giving off an elegantly traditional, yet functional atmosphere. A paper window opened on a private oriental garden that could be accessed via the nearby sliding door, and it even had its own private hot spring.

All in all, she could understand why this room was one of the best rooms of this inn. The only problem she saw was that there was only one bed -which was logical for a “lovey-dovey couple” room- but since there were little to no difference between the tatami floor and large, probably hard tatami bed, she would just have to ask for extra blankets; having one of them sleep on the floor would not be as much as an injustice. And so, they settled in, taking some time to recuperate from the morning’s events, with her sitting at the table, and him, looking regally bored on the bed -since his long legs could not fit under the table anyway. 

Her mind wandered to her current conundrum -how to honor her part of her deal with Hancock. Having an interview about those tourist attractions and recreation the city had to offer was as good as revealing her current location, which is the information she was trying to hide in the first place. Maybe if it was a reporter she knew, like Kippih Jakkya of the Raven, she might be able to get the newspaper to withhold her name, but then again, the “advertisement” would lose its impact. Perhaps she could pretend to agree, but just not do it, and hope that the situation in Eorzea would be fixed soon, allowing her to leave before he caught onto the ruse... Still, she felt bad for tricking him, just like she felt bad to have her friends do all the hard work in Eorzea, while she was supposed to just stay idling here. The nagging feeling being sent out of their way, after all the trouble she had caused, gnawed at the back of her mind; while her reason told her that it was but a logical course of action. She sighed once more, only to feel a dull, soft impact to her head. She turned to see one of the soft, western type pillows they had obtained from the inn staff lying on the floor, its brother still in the hands of the offender:

\- “On the next sigh that passes your lips, by your Twelve, I will be using this remaining pillow to ensure I never have to hear this sound again” The threat was evident in his words. She almost exploded in the spot -what the hell was wrong with her sighing-, then remembered that starting a fight right now would not be the best idea: they’d trouble the other customers, and end up in having to spend a lot of gil they didn’t have to pay for the damage, _again._ While she was working hard at repressing her anger, he walked up to her, retrieving from her hands the brochure she had been broodingly poring over. Noting his quizzical eyebrow, she explained the gist of the issue for him, prompting an unexpected answer.

\- “Let’s just get on with it then”. Tossing the paper back to her face, he made to slip his geta back on. Seeing her surprised face, he deigned to explain in words she could understand: “Whether or not you decide to have this interview, at least you would have collected the relevant information. And it’s better to do so while the streets are rife with like-minded people.” He ended up divulging his own intentions. “It’s not like we’re doing anything interesting in this room, anyway”. As expressed by his expert pillow throw, he would not stand one more second cooped in a room with this mopey, sighing version of his favourite beast.

\- “But… Won’t you risk being recognized?” While it was not a stretch to hope that the general populace of Kugane probably didn’t know the face of a Garlean official, the same ignorance couldn’t be expected of the soldiers stationed in the nearby Garlean embassy. He readjusted his wide brimmed hat.

\- “Is this not why your walking popoto of a friend made this ridiculous getup for me?” She took in his current attire, and her face did not show the slightest sign of being reassured -he was still literally the same, very recognisable Zenos, just with different clothes- so he added “Fret not. I have no intention to return to Garlemald.” After all, the murky waters of palace politics held no interest for him; it would be more entertaining for him to stay near his dear friend. “As for the risk of encountering random Garlean patrols that might be able to recognise me, we won't. They wouldn’t risk encroaching on the Sekiseigumi’s territory without a good reason.” And currently, he was supposed to be dead, and on the other side of the world. They wouldn’t risk damaging diplomatic relationships to chase ghosts.

She had the weird feeling that he was surprisingly enthusiastic, given the fact that he had spoken more in a few moments than during the whole duration of their sea fare, but a glance at his extremely blasé expression had her dismiss that idea on the spot. _No way_. But since it was decided that they would be doing this, and since they couldn’t help but do this together, she thought she might as well ask his opinion on the matter. 

\- “Which one of these would you prefer?” She had no opinion on the matter herself, so she’d go with whatever he picked, but the scathing disdain in this tone as he answered definitively killed off any notion of him being enthused about this outing:

\- “Do I look like someone who would enjoy any of these trite bores? Pick whatever you like, so at least one of us can enjoy themselves.” Before adding after a pause. “I remember hearing that for this type of celebrations, they set up food stalls along the streets, so we might as well go and eat there”.


	3. Another Side

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kugane's Lovey*Dovey Tour <3

After filling their bellies with local Hingan street food, which was a novel experience for both of them, she picked their first activity: renting a traditional costume. The pamphlet stated that the costume they would rent would be slightly more festive than those of common citizens; it was adapted from a design that was used for formal ceremonies, so it was supposed to look magnificent, while still allowing them to move comfortably as they roamed the city for the rest of the tour. It felt like a logical starting point.

As they arrived at the tailor, they were immediately taken care of by its polite, very professional staff. The scarcity of clients as well as the upscale interior design of the shop -an elegant blend of austere luxury- made her feel relieved that the East Aldernard Trading Company was footing the bill. As a frigid stare from Zenos almost sent one of the clerks crying -their previous misadventures in fitting clothes an unpleasant memory- she ended up being the only one getting the “Eastern lovey-dovey-relooking” treatment. After what seemed an eternity of torture, she finally emerged as a beauty reborn, or so she hoped:

\- “How is it?” The clothes felt slightly stiff, the belt had been laced _really_ tight, and her legs felt strangely breezy under the kimono, but she did not really mind as she quite liked the end result. It was not something she would wear on a daily basis, but she definitely enjoyed looking fancy from time to time, and she couldn’t deny that the store employees had done a stellar job, even with coarse base material like herself. Her skin was fair enough that the store’s makeup artist did not even need to cover her in powder to achieve that pale faced look of the graceful maiko; she only had to apply a bit of colored accents, foregoing altogether the rouge of the performing artists for a pastel look that fit well with her clothes.

The kimono itself was a gorgeous piece of art, made of perfectly sewn together large pieces of fabric, skilfully dyed so that it started with a pastel green tone on the top, before blending into a purple that perfectly matched her darker hair color, and strewn with gorgeous embroidered motifs of flowers and butterflies. They couldn’t comb her short hair in the one of the classic long hairstyles that were in vogue here, and a wig would be too cumbersome; instead, they just used intricate butterfly-shaped hair ornaments embedded with stones that matched her eyes, and formed a set with her purple obi decorations.

She felt a bit naked without her own weapon and clothes that the shop had sent back to the inn as part of their service, so she couldn’t help but nervously tug on her long sleeves as she was waiting for his verdict.

\- “Hmm. You look different”. Her current attire was reminiscent of the traditional iconic aesthetics favored by wealthy ladies of the East, yet she didn’t look gaudy and fake, like the courtesans local leaders tried to push to him on his previous trips here, or outright venomous, like his former acting viceroy. She objectively looked pretty, cute, a look that was supposed to awaken one’s need to protect. Not that he had any. He actually preferred the version of her that was radiant in battle, unyielding and free. But... This variant was not bad, either.

\- “And? Is it better?” She pushed for an answer, but all she received was a non-committal sound. “Why would I ask you of all people…”

\- “It does look nice.” He conceded, resisting the impulse to tug at her perking ears as he passed by her on his way out of the shop. (I still prefer the usual you, though.)

They went out of the tailor’s, ready to go on with their day, but they only needed a few seconds to notice a new problem: while a few steps were enough to send him across the street, her movements, restricted by thick, stiff layers of fabric, could barely carry her a yalm away in the same duration. Noticing from her twitching ears that she was as irritated as he was by this new development, he bitterly kept his tongue and just grabbed her hand, entwining their fingers together, which caused her to grow flustered:

\- “You don’t have to do it like this!” She couldn’t help blushing slightly at the intimate gesture. Surely, there were many other ways they could avoid losing each other in the sea of people -although she couldn’t come up with one right now… He scoffed:

\- “If I held you anywhere else, onlookers would think I’m forcing you. I do not want to attract any more unwanted attention.”

\- “But, they’ll think we’re…” She thought back at the merchant who, mistaking them for an affectionate pair, had given them their food order with only one pair of chopsticks, so they could feed each other -it had been a thoroughly embarrassing ordeal. He rolled his eyes at her words -they were following the instructions of a booklet called “Kugane’s Winter Lovey Dovey tour”, so it was a bit too late to worry about that. But most importantly:

\- “You give far too much importance to the opinion of complete strangers”, he berated. “Or could it be that you’re truly stupid enough to believe that everything that comes out of their mouth is the truth?” She opened her mouth in rebuttal but… She didn’t want to admit it, but he had a point. In this city where her face was mostly unknown, she did not have to worry about any rumors, or the judgement of anonymous faces in the crowd, whose thoughts could not affect her.

As for those she cared about… They wouldn’t have wanted her to spend such a fine, festive time moping around. She lightly tapped her own cheeks to perk herself up -realising only afterwards in panic that she could have smeared her makeup- and decided that, at least for today, she would try to do a good job of enjoying herself.

He watched as his words sunk into her mind, and was somewhat pleased to note that they seemed to have a positive effect. She had been weird recently, reacting to the most innocuous provocations in a way that wasn’t enjoyable at all, full of listless sighs and brooding… Not that he cared about her mental well being. Not at all. It’s just that it did influence negatively her battle performance, making her a dull, boring opponent. If only she could discard all her current extra thoughts, and just focus on them… But, just seeing as she had begun to free herself from some of her invisible demons was already a good start.

Having thrown part of her worries to the winds, she was able to walk hand in hand with him as they travelled from one thing to another, enjoying (at least for her) the sights and festive atmosphere as the crowd, composed mostly of couples from all ages, flocked to the various stalls that had been set up. Most of the time, he declined participation in the games that were proposed, or was really difficult to convince; he only rose to the challenge for activities that pitted them against each other, where he suddenly spared absolutely no effort; but she was not to be outdone, and they maintained an even score throughout the afternoon, to the surprise and dismay of the nearby staff- while watching this couple of scary monsters solving their sentimental troubles through such violent competition was a sight to behold, the intensity of their performance was intimidating the other patrons…

After a while of roaming the streets, switching from rubber-soled shoes to wooden sandals started taking its toll, reducing her already sedate pace to a crawl. It was hard for him not to notice this, especially when he felt a slight resistance when trying to walk at a normal speed, or when she stayed behind to look at displays that were even less interesting than usual, strangely shifting from one leg to another.

\- “What is it, again?” Their rhythm was so slow, it was almost five steps to his usual one. 

\- “Eh? Nothing…” She shifted once more. She literally slew gods for a living, she could probably deal with sore feet for an afternoon. 

He frowned at her dishonest answer. _So complicated to rear_. Since she wouldn’t take the decision for herself...

\- “We might as well take a break.” He decided unilaterally. “Wasn't there a tea break scheduled for this?” As she opened her mouth to protest, he asked in a soft tone that was scarier than a full-on threat: “Can you walk, or do you need a carry?” She perceived the danger to her dignity and muttered:

\- “Shiokaze Hostelry is not that far. I can walk there just fine”.

* * *

After arriving at Shiokaze Hostelry, the mention of their patron’s name was enough to afford them a table at a spot that was private enough for him to remove his hat. Tea and traditional pastries were served, and soon enough, the atmosphere settled in a slightly awkward silence. The absurdity of the whole scene reminded her of something, and she lightly snorted.

\- “I can’t believe we’ve actually ended up doing this”. The sudden nature of her remark earned her an interrogative hum. She clarified her thoughts. “I mean”, quoting: “ _Together, we could while away the quiet hours, as friend and confidant_ ”. Perhaps it was just something he said in the heat of the moment, and he had already… “Forget I mentioned that”.

\- “Oh…” It was not long ago that he himself proposed this, before their fateful encounter in the Royal Menagerie, yet it felt like it had been an eternity. Their circumstances had changed, yet he did not feel that these words were outdated. “We're not talking that much, though”, he noted. The awkward silence resumed. Wanting to avoid his usual, characteristically focused gaze, she was looking distractedly at the other customers; mostly couples, whispering sweet nothings to each other:

\- "It's strange that here this is a time for couples''. Noting his questioning expression, she continued. “In Eorzea, this period of the year is called _Starlight Celebration_ ; it was originally an Ishgardian custom, to bring cheer to orphaned children during the cold season, and from there it became a family oriented celebration…” Her voice slowly died. Be it thinking about her family, or thinking about Ishgard, both were painful, and she couldn't muster the strength to keep talking about these topics. This time, the conversation lapsed into heavy silence as she morosely stirred her tea.

These lonely, distant eyes as she gazed in the distance... It didn't suit her.

\- “Garlemald is a rather cold place, but there is nothing that matches this _Starlight Celebration_ of yours, or at least not in the palace”, he explained. Her ears perked with curiosity; she didn’t know much about the Garlean Empire, in spite of that country being the number one menace for Eorzea. “Maybe there’s something similar, but for commoners then? Are there any fun traditions in Garlemald?”

\- “No.” He imperceptibly frowned at the memory of the grand, cheerless halls of steel and cermet, with instructors and servants looking more dead than alive, like the puppets they were. “The whole place is boring.” She wasn’t sure how to respond to that.

\- “Oh. I see.” was all she could think of, as the silence threatened to take over again.

\- “I'm sure you have visited locales more interesting than our _glorious_ capital, though.” He paused. Ishgard did seem to be a sensitive topic; what about… “The Black Shroud for example?” He offered. “I heard the tale of an extraordinary swordsman haunting these woods, revealing himself when the forest turns to grey and the tension of battle can be felt in the air”.

\- “You mean Odin? The primal?” How unsurprising, that he would know about an obscure phantom knight thriving on the desire for battle. She also recalled how he was rumoured to be interested in storied blades. “You would have loved that one, actually the sword itself…”

And so the silence made way for a harmonious discussion; mostly, she talked and he listened, but sometimes, he even answered with anecdotes of his own, trying to avoid those she would judge morally dubious. On their table, light dishes replaced tea snacks, then desserts and back to tea, the hustle and bustle of the restaurant never dying around them, but never troubling their peace, either.

She didn't even notice when the blue of the sky changed to vibrant oranges and reds over the Ruby Sea, and then to a star-studded black. Only when she heard the fireworks -that they were supposed to go observe from a sonic spot, according to the pamphlet- go off in a dazzling array of shapes and colors, did she notice the current time: they had indeed spent the end of the afternoon talking. 

\- (Time sure flies when one's having fun...) She almost choked on her tea when she realized where her trail of thoughts was heading (Wait, what...?). The idea of _Zenos_ and _fun_ in a sentence, that did not involve someone bleeding profusely to death was pretty novel… and actually quite pleasant. She was not quite sure of what to make of this observation, so she just ignored it, instead switching to another topic: “We should probably go back”. 

Acquiescing, he naturally took her hand, and she did not refuse the contact, her blush barely visible under the dim streetlights as they leisurely walked back to their inn. Only the exaggerated wink of the inn clerk as she welcomed them back and wished them a _very pleasant night_ reminded her of the weirdness of her current situation.

Once they arrived in their inn room, she felt that the spacious suite had suddenly become smaller. Was it that the man that went to sit on the bed after removing his voluminous hat was mysteriously taking up even more space? Or was it just that she wouldn’t accept that he somehow was _closer_? She... needed to take some time to think. 

\- “I’ll go take a bath” she blurted, all but fleeing the room. She did not even take the time to take her own toiletries, or remove her rented attire, and straight up left, leaving behind a slightly confused room mate.


	4. Complicated, Compliant, Completed (18+)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Finding Answers in (un)conventional ways

Thankfully, the inn provided bath towels and basic necessities, and soon enough, after cleaning the day’s makeup and grime, she was able to sit waist deep in the warm, soothing waters of the inn’s public bath, deserted at this late hour. The temperature was just perfect, and with the calming sound of the bubbling spring nearby, and the beautiful moonlit sky, in other circumstances, she would have been able delighted to read a nice book, or even take a nap in this tranquil atmosphere. But her preoccupied mind did not leave her alone, ruining her peace until she finally decided to take the time to think about her current situation.

She had fun today, more fun than she had in a very, very long time. She also had been foolishly unguarded in front of a still very dangerous man whose greatest delight in life, by his own admission, had been to fight to the death with her. He had also been pretty ordinary today; that is to say, less of an asshat or grandstanding villain, and even… Considerate? Nice? Somewhat harder to hate? The “lovey dovey” bullshit they had to deal with all day probably helped painting this rosy colored picture… And she didn’t know _how to feel about how she felt about it_. She audibly sighed. Why couldn’t things be simple?

A nearby splash attracted her attention, taking her out of her reverie. She sharply turned into that direction, on the lookout for any enemies, her alert movements scaring the newcomers; it was just two local youngsters that had decided to take their bath nearby. She frowned. The mixed bathing area was _this_ large, yet they picked a spot _this_ close to her, and their eyes kept looking in her direction… She withheld a curse. The sooner they’d get down to business, the faster she could turn them down and return to her musings. Although they were intimidated by her obviously hostile reaction, after taking some time to gather their courage, they still decided to try their luck, one of them asking what was probably one of the lamest pickup lines in the book, all the while almost trembling under her unfriendly stare.

\- “Hello, beauty. Are you alone on this moonlit night?” Good. Now she could properly reject them:

\- “She’s not interested”. A deep, ice cold voice proclaimed, before she could even get a word out. _Zenos_. Without turning around, she could easily recognize him, even if he sounded really pissed, for some reason.

\- “Oh, are you guys together?” The man asked, almost relieved.

\- “No.”

\- “Yes.”

The simultaneous and contradictory replies left the two Hingan men, as well as Myraeda herself, bewildered, so much that she did not react on time when he came up to her spot and just plucked her from the spring pool in a princess carry, before turning to the two men and almost growl, in a tone that would probably stay engraved in their nightmares:

\- "Do not think too highly of yourselves", before striding away. They could thank their lucky stars that he didn’t have the habit to go bathe with his sword attached to his shorts -this earned them the honor of being the first and only ones to have eyed his prey, and lived to tell the tale.

She did not dare to struggle too much in his arms -after all, he was pretty tall, and she did not want to needlessly hurt herself if he dropped her from his considerable height- nor did she want to shout and alert the staff and other guests to this humiliating spectacle, as he carried her back their room while they were wearing nothing but a bath towel and a pair of swimming trunks between the both of them- but once they got back to their suite, she couldn’t take it anymore:

\- “What the hell is wrong with you? I didn’t need your help; I could have handled that mysel-” She hissed in pain as he unceremoniously dropped her on the tatami bed -while it was a bed, it was a pretty hard one. Her protests died in her throat when her gaze met his own as he towered over her -she did not think it was possible, but he looked even colder than usual:

\- “Me, helping you? Don’t think too highly of yourself. I’d also be in trouble if they carted you off somewhere”, he sneered “Why else would I have any interest in your messy private life, unless it affects me?” 

-”You..!” his remark, and the underlying implications, only served to aggravate her further, but he did not stop here.

\- “Is it not the reason why you left on your own to go to a public hot spring on one of the most _romantic_ night, when the room we’re occupying has a private one? Not like I’d care” She almost choked, face red, but it was unclear whether it was from anger or embarrassment.

\- “That’s not it..!” How was she supposed to tell him that _he_ was the one she was trying to avoid?

\- “What is it, then?” She could only stay stubbornly mute, so they remained like this, locked in wordless confrontation, before he finally added: “I really don't know what they see in you, though” Only then did she notice that her towel had fallen off when he dropped her on the bed, giving him an _eyeful_ for quite a long time now.

\- “Don't look!” She scrambled to cover herself, but his next sentence halted her movements.

\- “You're always doing the same, though”, he noted, and she tried not to recall all those times she caught herself staring at him in ways that could not exactly be considered pure -she internally complained; it was not really her fault, if the man sometimes seemed to deliberately flaunt his assets- “Or, are you admitting that there was something wrong with the way you're looking at me?” Even on her deathbed, she would not admit it. She dropped into a lying position, and turned her head to the side in a _what the eyes don’t see, the heart does not grieve over_ fashion, letting him free to feast his eyes, or whatever. It was not like he’d do anything else, right?

He was not lying when he said that he failed to understand what those lecherous wretches saw in her. More than her objectively charming, but common forms, what intrigued him were the scars adorning them. Some were of his own making, educing a weird sentiment of satisfaction within him, and some came from other, older encounters. It was strange to see those marks in the flesh: he already knew some of them, like intimate old friends, as the slight deviations of her movements from the most natural form betrayed old ails, traumas and fragilities. As for the others… On impulse, he traced along one of these unknown scars, eliciting a surprised gasp from her as she supported herself to a semi seated position using one arm, her gaze whipping back to him. 

She was about to chew him out but she was stopped by his unreadable gaze; in his mind, wasn’t she just an entertaining toy that he picked up to alleviate his ennui? It was probably the same way he’d use to observe a somewhat interesting item. Similarly, he was just touching her, not _touching_ her, nothing more: she was the one getting fired up for nothing. She wanted to protest, but she wasn’t sure she could keep a steady voice, with her mind in the gutter like this. She was mortified by her own lack of restraint. Was it because it was so long ago that she last felt an affectionate touch? Was she because she missed that person, missed his touch so much that the faintest contact was enough to remind her of their nights?

She was somewhere else, _again_ , with those eyes that seemed to carry all the sadness in the world, ignoring him even as they were so close. For unknown reasons, it irked him so much that he reached to lightly grip her chin, forcing her to look only at him. Using one hand on the wall and a knee on the bed for support, he got closer and closer to her trapped face, his lips skimming over her forehead to softly order in her ear:

\- “Look at me properly”.

At this close distance, too close for comfort, she could feel the heat radiating from his body, a strange contrast to his usually cold, emotionless eyes, his massive frame filling her field of vision, allowing for nothing else to intrude on this moment.

\- “Look… ?” She failed to properly understand his meaning. She was properly seeing him right now -although she could not see his expression currently, since he was literally breathing down her ear canal- so why… ?

He noticed her incomprehension and sighed, the forlorn sound reaching directly her eardrum:

\- “Why is it that you always think about unnecessary things?” Thinking too much ruined her potential; things like rules, morals, the past, the future, it could only get in the way of enjoying present opportunities. A beast like her should only act on instinct. “What are your instincts telling you to do right now? What is your true heart’s desire?”

Her current, true heart’s desire? She lowered her gaze, as she got lost in thoughts. Her mind was drawing a complete blank on this topic: she had not been paying attention to something like that for so long… Even as she was wracking her brain to find the answer, her free hand had reflexively gone to his fingers that were still pinching her chin, and removed them, but not completely, leaving them instead at her delicate clavicle.

\- “Good. It seems that we have our answer”. His low laugh, for once devoid of unpleasant mockery, took her out of her daze, and she finally noticed her own subconscious gesture. “This is not something that you can obtain if you think too much about it, you see.” He noticed her slightly panicked look, and couldn’t help but pet her silky ears, whispering “Since you have been a good, honest girl for once, you will get a nice reward”.

She didn’t have the chance to voice her complaints, before he moved to a sitting kneel in front of her, and bending down, raised her chin to seize her lips in a devouring kiss. Taking advantage of her gasp as his other, rogue hand grazed the sensitive buds on her chest, he delved into her opened mouth, his agile tongue tangling with her shy one, sometimes sweet, sometimes aggressive, until she felt faint from the lack of oxygen and the nervous butterflies in her stomach. He finally released her, trailing light kisses on her neck and clavicles, softly caressing, kneading her breasts and belly, slowly pushing her down until she was yearning and defenseless.

In lovemaking, just like in battle, the man was relentless, overwhelming, leaving no space for half-hearted moves or counter attacks. Having lost the initiative, she could only follow his lead, but... It wasn't that bad. Actually, she was at loath to admit that it even felt _pretty damn good_. As his fingers, this tongue travelled across her body, reigniting the flames of carnal desire in places long forgotten, she soon couldn't hold back her pleasured sighs, or prevent herself from leaning into his skillful touch. The part of her brain that was still able to form somewhat coherent thoughts was plagued by a perverse question:

\- (Have I always been this wanton?) The other possibility, that this iceberg of an enemy prince was just that good, sounded a bit incongruous -even though she would readily concede that he indeed had an enticing physique, his terrible personality was a major turn off… Most of the time. Right now, she couldn’t bring herself to care, not after she made eye contact with him; the predatory glow in his clear blue eyes was not unlike the one he sported in their duels, taking in her every movement, her every breath, every twitch of her ears or tail, wholly focused on her. A gaze in which she was the only one existing, as he keenly observed the most minute hints of pleasure from her body, playing with her enamored cries like a virtuoso would play his favourite instrument. Reclining lazily, she abandoned herself to the sensations he gave her, not registering as he spread her legs, baring the proof of her arousal, as the shiny, slimy substance seeping from her privates could not pass as a remnant of her hot spring bath.

\- “This wet already?” His evaluation made her face flush even more, of embarrassment this time; but there was no mockery in his tone, as he chucked appreciatively: “Well, this will help for future developments”. Her grunt of interrogation changed into one of surprise as the hand that was trailing around her hip bone and upper thigh slyly moved to her drenched lips, parting them. She sat up abruptly, clinging to his upper arm as if to stop him.

\- “Don't tell me that you don't want this". He didn't even sound annoyed, but rather amused: there was no way he could stop touching her _there_ with her closed thighs trapping his hand, and his arm locked in this position. She buried her face against his shoulder to avoid answering, ignoring his throaty chuckle, but made no further gesture to prevent his actions, as a lone digit circled slowly her secret place, before invading her warm, tight, expecting entrance. He used the strength of her nails that were still clutching, clawing his upper arm, and other signs he was now well versed in reading, to gauge the appropriate depth and angle of his ministrations, and soon enough, she melted back on the bed, her labored breaths closer to full on moans, her previously clenched thighs granting him full access.

By then, his engorged length was straining almost painfully in the swimwear he had yet to remove, yet he did not rush, as he wanted to see more of her reactions. Her tail unconsciously wrapped around his forearm, as if to encourage his movements, and her hips were shifting slightly, chasing his retreating fingers, then reflexively moving to meet them, telling him which spots were the most sensitive. And he immediately put this knowledge to use, as his scissoring index and middle finger made sure to graze those places, while his thumb was playing with her protruding bead, seemingly oblivious to the increased urgency of her cries.

She gripped his wrist tightly, stabilizing her voice just enough to mouth:

\- “Enough...”, unable and unwilling to voice her wants. He couldn’t help stop himself from teasing her, asking obnoxiously:

\- “Could it be… that my fingers are not enough?” She rolled her eyes. _How could she forget he was an ass._ But fortunately for her, his indifference was mostly empty bravado, as he could barely hold himself back. He removed his last item of clothing, freeing his full, raring length, whose tip was already slightly shiny from his own arousal, and leisurely stroked it, coating himself with her wetness. Kneeling back between her spread legs, he licked his lips in anticipation as he lined himself with her quivering hole: “Then, I will grant you our heart’s desire”.

Using one hand to control her hips, and the other to support himself, he slowly, tortuously pushed inside, but even with his careful preparation, it was a _tight_ fit. Sweat beaded on his skin as he restrained his desire to bury himself deep inside her, as her growing discomfort had her fisting the sheets on one side, and painfully grabbing his wrist on the other, leaving increasingly harsher claw marks for each ilm he fed to her lower mouth. In other circumstances, bleeding out by her hand might have been a nice perspective, but right now, he had uses for his blood _elsewhere_ ; in the end, he entwined their fingers together, soothingly squeezing her palm as he advanced, bit by bit, until he was almost fully in. It was a pity that he could not sheathe himself to the hilt right now, but this was something he definitely wanted to _work_ towards in the future. But for now, just this sensation was… more than sufficient.

She almost came several times when he entered, as his slightly larger head scraped past her sensitive spots, and now that she had slightly accommodated to his presence, she felt strangely distended, the pain of his initial entry slowly faded into a dull, light soreness; she even was slightly looking forward to how it could feel if he were to move faster, _harder_ , but… He was strangely immobile, with his quickening, scorching pulse inside of her and his quiet breath the only signs of activity. Growing slightly impatient, she tentatively moved her hips, but she wasn’t prepared to hear that _soft, vulnerable_ sound from him, a cry halfway between a sigh and a moan, travelling directly through her eardrums:

\- “Do you know how _good_ it feels inside you?” he said, almost complaining, taking some more time to gather himself before straightening up, towering almost menacingly above her. “As expected, you’re a tough opponent. But since you're eager for me to make my move… I hope you are ready." She bitterly regretted her decision, as he started on a brisk pace that barely let her the time to breathe.

Although he couldn’t move as he wanted, for fear of losing himself too early in her warm, inviting confines, he used rhythm and angle variations to drive her crazy, as expressed by the oh-so-sweet contractions of her narrow passage, the involuntary tension in her body as she resisted the pull of pleasure, and the ticklish caress of her tail as it excitedly whipped his muscular thighs. Truly, a delightful sight to see...

His only regret was that their size difference did not allow him to easily kiss her when they were joined like this; he traced her lips longingly at first, then with more insistence, taking advantage of her mouth opening on a strangled gasp due to a well angled, vicious thrust, to invade her oral cavity. The feel of her slightly rough tongue licking her own juices as it clumsily squirmed in the now limited space, the vibration of her rapturous moans, travelling through his phalanges were already a stringent test of his waning control, but when she bit the offending fingers as they tried to reach deeper, her sharper canines drawing his precious lifeblood, then teasing the wound, her gaze lost in pleasure, but still somehow defiant, he almost lost it, whispering hoarsely in her ears

\- “You will be the death of me…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (I'm sorry aaaaa)


	5. The Morning After

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A hangover would have been better.

The next morning, she felt slightly disoriented as she woke up, the soft rays of the winter sun filtering through the paper windows to cast a bleak light on the far eastern decor of the room. It took her a few seconds to remember that they had finally left their cramped cabins for this suite as they disembarked in Kugane. Sleeping in a real room was definitely warmer than on a boat, even sweltering. She removed the abnormally heavy blanket from her chest, sitting up to stretch, and found her whole body _sore._ They did walk a lot yesterday, but that didn’t explain why she felt sore everywhere, almost as if she had been in a fight. Maybe it was from sleeping from a hard bed? She sighed. This day was not starting well… She even had one of those weird, embarrassing dreams, _again._ She patted her cheeks, willing herself to wake up completely.

\- (Perhaps it’ll be better after a good soak in the springs?) But for that, she’d need to get out of bed, which proved quite difficult with those impossibly voluminous blankets obstructing her passage. She took a corner of the offending cover, tossing it aside.

And screamed.

\- “Why are you so noisy in the morning?” It had been a long time since his slumber had been so comfortable, so he had slept more than usual, even considering their nightly activities, so he was not really happy to be awoken by a certain someone ripping his covers from him before howling in his ears.

\- “Why are you on my bed?” she asked, a bit panicked.

\- “Hmm? You really are not a morning person.” He sighed. “Isn’t that obvious?” Her brusque removal of the bed sheets had revealed their state of undress, as well as the tell tale marks of a _fulfilling night_ on their bodies. She had light bruises (probably from rough handling) at her hips, and love bites were littering her neck, clavicles, chest, and even inner thighs; he had similar ambiguous markings on his lower chest, as well as claw marks on his torso, lower back, and forearms. He still felt the need to state “I... _We slept_ here.”

\- “This was not a dream?” she asked, mortified.

\- “Is this your excuse to avoid taking responsibility?” he mocked her. “Quite scummy…” 

\- “Oh gods, no…” She buried her face in her hands, despairing. What the hell had she been thinking? She asked that question, but she already knew the answer. She didn’t even have the excuse of being drunk, or under influence, or anything -just plainly giving into her lust and hidden desires. A mistake. “OK, let’s pretend this never happened”. Surely, he wouldn’t want to stay entangled with a savage? His laconic answer killed all hopes for a peaceful resolution of this issue.

\- “No.” His visage turned quite serious. No way. Now that he had laid his hand on his prey, and feasted on her flesh, there was no way anyone could take this from her. Not even herself.

\- “Why?” Why was he suddenly willing to cling to her?

\- “Why?” He mirrored her question, deflecting it.

\- “Because… this is wrong!” Laying in bed with her mortal enemy... She had done quite a lot of stupid things, but she really outdid herself this time.

\- “This is not what you were saying yesterday.” Not that she had actually been able to say anything. Which was way better than the discourse she was serving him right now. 

Was he really this dense, removed from the reality that he couldn’t see what was the problem here? She was about to open her mouth but he silenced her by placing a finger on her lips. It seemed that she did not retain yesterday’s lesson… No matter. He would repeat it as many times as needed. 

\- “You”, he exposed, “are worried that your friends will turn their back on you for this. But if their so-called friendship is this fragile, then is it even worth anything?” Her words died in her throat. She… couldn’t find fault with this argument. Yet she didn’t want to risk being alienated for something as stupid as following her _heart_ or her _instincts_ “You don’t need such a poor company” (You only need me.) “You’re just pathetically clinging to the illusion of friendship out of fear of solitude. And if you are afraid of solitude… I will stay with you until our end”.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading \o/


End file.
